The LA Business Expo Incident
by Red Witch
Summary: The Figgis Agency's latest attempts to get clients and make an impression on the business community gets a tad out of hand.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters went to a convention. Just something crazy that came into my tiny brain.**

 **The LA Business Expo Incident**

"All right," Cyril looked at his handiwork. "I think that really looks good!"

He stood in front of a booth in a huge convention center. The booth had a sign saying FIGGIS DETECTIVE AGENCY! There were stacks of paper and flyers on the desk in front. Some pictures of the agency on display in the back. A large picture of Cyril in the foreground.

"Ah!" Cyril took out his phone and took a picture of the booth. "The Figgis Agency booth at the Los Angeles Business Expo! Suck on that everyone who thought I was a failure!"

 _"Was?"_ Lana asked as she folded her arms.

"I know right?" Krieger snickered.

"Shut up you two!" Cyril snapped. "I think it looks good!"

"I think it looks like a reject from a science fair," Lana sighed. "Speaking of which… Krieger did you get all the flyers printed?"

"And then some," Krieger pointed to a huge stack of pink papers. "I even already put some flyers in the bathrooms."

"You mean the men's bathrooms," Lana said.

"Them too," Krieger nodded. "And I have a great marketing gimmick!"

"Oh joy," Lana sighed. "Cyril, I am having second thoughts about this."

"Look Lana we need business in the worst way," Cyril said. "And business expos like these are great opportunities to not only drum up business but to network. We were lucky to get a booth at all."

"And it's in a good location," Krieger said as he helped set up some kind of machine box. "Right across from Mrs. Pretzel's! They're giving out free samples!"

"People love pretzels, Lana," Cyril agreed.

"And as they're looking around eating their pretzels," Krieger said. "They will see **this**!"

He opened up the box and out came a realistic looking basset hound with a Sherlock Homes cap on his head. "Furlock Bones 2.0!" Krieger cheered.

"Woof!" The robot dog barked.

"You made a **robot dog** version of Furlock Bones?" Lana blinked. "Of course you did."

"You got to admit," Krieger grinned as the robot wagged his tail. "It's great marketing."

"Why did we bring **him** instead of Ray?" Lana asked.

"Because we needed someone with a brain cell to cover back at the agency," Cyril reminded her. "And since Ms. Archer is spending the entire day with Archer at the hospital. And there was no way in hell I was bringing the Glue and Groovy Bear Time Gals to this…"

"Krieger was the lesser of all the evils," Lana pieced it together. "That makes sense."

"This will be great!" Krieger petted Furlock Bones. "Not only is Furlock here our mascot promoting our company, he also showcases my robotics! We're gonna get a lot of buzz with this baby!"

"Yeah one little problem with **that** Krieger," Lana pointed across the way. There was a huge indoor tent that was all lit up. A huge contingent of press and people were crowded around it. "I think people are going to be more interested in what's going on in **there** than out here."

"That is a big tent," Cyril realized. "But this will work too."

"Yeah when people get bored of eating pretzels and looking at a super-secret exhibition inside a fancy tent they can always come look at **us,** " Lana said sarcastically. "And our lame ass booth."

"Look do you want the hours for this or **not?** " Cyril snapped. "Because at a minimum of ten hours a day for three days I'm pretty sure I can get Ray or one of the other idiots to cover for you!"

"No, I'm good," Lana relented.

"Really?" Cyril asked sarcastically. "Are you _sure_? You sure you're not **too good** for this job?"

"I'm **fine!"** Lana snapped.

"You **sure**?" Cyril went on.

"I'M **GOOD** DAMN IT!" Lana snapped. "You know I need the damn hours for my damn license! I'll **take** it!"

"Just so we're on the same page," Cyril backed away.

"I wonder what's going on in there?" Krieger pointed. "I wish there was a way we could find out."

"Krieger we are a detective agency so…" Lana sighed.

"Look this isn't about who has the biggest flashiest booth," Cyril said. "Or who has major press coverage. Or buzz…"

"Good," Krieger said. "Because we have none of those things."

"This is about providing a service to the community," Cyril went on. "A discreet solid reputable…Is that **lobsters** they're bringing in there?"

"And ice cream?" Krieger looked at what was going on. "And is that a tray of chocolate covered strawberries? And a frozen yogurt machine? They have a frozen yogurt **machine**?"

"And that's **champagne!** " Lana realized. "They're bringing in cartons of champagne."

"And puff pastries," Cyril whistled. "Wow whoever is putting that on is really going all out. I wonder who's doing this?"

"I mean the fact that there's no sign…" Lana said. "Makes me want to know what's going on there even more."

"Me too," Krieger nodded.

"I mean look at all that," Lana asked. "Does even the press know what's going on? They have to know what's going on right?"

"They should," Cyril said. "Something big is going on in there. I can feel it."

"Definitely something going down over there," Lana agreed.

"Whatever it is," Krieger said. "It is **huge**."

"Are those _gift baskets_?" Lana pointed. "They look like gift baskets!"

"They **are** gift baskets!" Krieger said.

"Gee I really want to know what the big deal is about!" Cyril said excitedly.

"Me too!" Krieger said excitedly. "And we get to see a lot of things from where we are."

"I can't wait to see what happens!" Cyril said very excitedly.

"Me too!" Krieger agreed.

"Oh my God," Lana realized. "We just fell for the hype, didn't we?"

"We sure did," Cyril groaned.

"Yup, yup, yup…" Krieger agreed. "Guys. I think we're toast."

"No, we're not toast!" Cyril said. "We can do this. We can compete with…that."

"Face it Cyril," Lana sighed. "Whoever is putting that on, whatever it is. They are clearly smarter than us."

"Look even if we only get **one client** out of this it will be worth it," Cyril said.

"And how much did we have to **pay** to be part of this?" Lana sighed.

"Not that much," Cyril admitted.

"Cyril doesn't registration for expos like this in a major city cost at least a couple thousand dollars?" Krieger asked.

"How **many** thousands?" Lana asked. "Cyril where did you get the money?"

"Don't worry about it," Cyril coughed.

"I kind of feel that I should," Lana said. "Cyril…"

"Don't worry," Cyril said nervously. "I'm sure we can make enough money for me to put it back…"

"Put it back from **where?** " Lana asked angrily.

"And besides," Cyril laughed nervously. "Ms. Archer hardly wears furs now anyway. Much less needing…"

"You stole money from Mallory's _secret emergency fur account_?" Lana gasped. "Are you _crazy_?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Krieger asked.

"Look I was **desperate** , okay?" Cyril snapped. "There was no other way I could raise eleven thousand dollars that fast!"

" _Eleven thousand dollars_?" Krieger did a double take at the booth. "For **this?** "

"That money was just **sitting there!"** Cyril snapped. "Not even getting interest! And Mallory's password is Duchess for everything! I mean after all these years you would think the woman would have figured out by now that we all know what her password for everything is! Even after we've mentioned it at least _six or seven times_!"

"Okay calm down Bernie Hate-off!" Lana took some deep breaths. "It will be fine as long as we put some money back in the account before Mallory notices. How much did she have left in that account anyway?"

Cyril paused. "Eleven thousand dollars and fifty-three cents."

"CYRIL!" Lana gasped.

"Spoiler alert," Cyril admitted. "I also took the fifty-three cents. What? It would have been insulting if I just left it there!"

"You're right," Lana groaned. "It wouldn't have made her want to kill you any less!"

"She hasn't looked in that account in **ages!** " Cyril said. "I'm sure we can put it back somehow without her noticing."

"She hasn't exactly been Ms. Observant the past few months," Krieger said. "If we're being totally honest…"

"We're not," Cyril said quickly.

"I emptied out a few of her other secret accounts about a month ago," Krieger went on. "For a few other projects."

"Krieger!" Lana gasped. "What are you going to do when Mallory finds out?"

"What I always do," Krieger shrugged. "Blame it on Archer and say he used it to buy drinks and hookers. Oh wait…That might not work this time."

"You **think?"** Cyril snapped. "Even Archer can't embezzle money while he's in a coma!"

"Oh, are **you** suddenly Mr. Morality about a little embezzlement?" Krieger snapped. "Cyril Ponzi!"

"I only took that money for the betterment of the **entire** **agency**!" Cyril snapped. "Not to make trangendered lizards that overrun the city!"

"They were transgendered **frogs!** " Krieger snapped. "And I didn't just **let them** overrun the city! They **escaped**!"

"Hey! Shut up!" Lana snapped. "What's done is done. We just need to focus on getting clients this weekend. And maybe some networking wouldn't hurt?"

"She's right," Cyril noticed something. "Like Ms. Young. She's in charge of this whole thing. She's coming this way. Act professional. Act professional!"

"That'll be a first," Lana groaned.

Ms. Young ironically was a fifty something year old woman in a smart conservative green dress with perfectly coiffed brown hair. Behind her was a younger man in a brown suit and a tie carrying a clipboard.

"Ms. Young!" Cyril said. "It's good to see you. Thank you so much for letting us set up our booth."

"And your booth is…" Ms. Young paused as she took a look. "Adequate."

"Thank you," Cyril said.

"And you even have a…" Ms. Young looked at Lana. "Showgirl…"

"I'm a detective," Lana frowned.

" _Of course_ you are," Ms. Young sighed.

"I really am!" Lana snapped.

"Whatever. It's interesting because normally private investigative firms don't traditionally advertise themselves at our expo," Ms. Young said. "Because you know? The whole discretion thing."

"Well then how do they get business if they don't advertise?" Krieger scoffed. "Think lady!"

"Woof!" Furlock Bones barked.

"What's **a dog** doing here?" The assistant looked at Furlock Bones.

"He's a robot," Cyril explained. "Not a real dog."

"See?" Krieger lifted up the fur on one of the sides of the robot to reveal the wiring underneath.

"Oh my…" Ms. Young was surprised.

"Cool!" The assistant whistled. "And it's so lifelike."

"Calm down Pete," Ms. Young said. "What do you use a robot dog for?"

"Surveillance," Cyril said quickly.

"Protection," Lana said as the same time.

"Protection," Cyril said quickly.

"Surveillance," Lana said quickly.

"Surveillance and protection," Cyril added. "We also do developmental research. The Figgis Agency has our hands in a lot of pots. I mean we do a lot of work in different areas."

"So we've heard," Pete remarked.

"You've heard of us?" Lana asked.

"Oh yes," Pete snorted. "Quite a few members of the business community have heard of the Figgis Agency. You have a reputation."

"A reputation?" Cyril blinked. "Or a… _reputation?"_ He made air quotes.

"A _reputation,_ " Pete gave him a look.

"Oh boy," Cyril winced.

"Which reminds me," Ms. Young said. "The Safe House booth does not want any of you **near** it's booth."

"We didn't even bring Milton with us!" Cyril protested.

"Let me explain something Mr. Figgis," Mrs. Young sighed. "Your agency wasn't exactly our first choice to fill this spot. Or our second."

"Well that doesn't matter…" Cyril said.

"Or our third, fourth or fifth," Mrs. Young went on. "But considering we had a last-minute dropout from Fancy Fred's the discount jewelry store on account the company is in bankruptcy and closing most of their stores…We needed to fill the space fast. And your check cleared so…."

"We _get it_ ," Lana groaned.

"What she means is we appreciate the opportunity," Cyril told Ms. Young. "Good to know our check cleared. Not that I was worried about our check clearing. Because we have money. Obviously. But the fact that our check cleared was really good. Really, really good."

Cyril went on. "And you know what else is good? This location you set us up in. This is a nice location."

"Again," Ms. Young sighed. "We had another last-minute cancellation. This was supposed to be for Giraffe Toys. Which is also in bankruptcy and closing several stores."

"Yikes," Cyril laughed nervously. "Well the end of that business may be a loss of childhood memories and fun but the Figgis Agency's gain. Am I right?"

"Wait then who has Fancy Fred's spot?" Krieger asked.

"Oh, that was incorporated with the Amazon booth," Pete said. "They needed the extra space anyway."

"Nice to see that business is doing well," Krieger nodded.

"I wonder what **that business** is?" Lana pointed across the way. "That big one with the indoor tent next to Mrs. Pretzel's."

"Oh, that's the Tunt Expo Tent," Ms. Young said. "They're showcasing their new Tunt Motors car. The Tuntrado 3000."

"What?" Cyril blinked.

"That reminds me Pete," Ms. Young asked. "Did you get them their champagne and chocolate covered strawberries?"

"What?" Lana blinked.

"Yes, and I set up the brand new frozen yogurt machine," Pete added.

 _"WHAT?"_ Krieger gasped. "Aw man…"

"For some reason Tunt Industries is now in the car business," Ms. Young sighed. "This is their first model. I guess controlling half the train industry and a small quarter of the one percent wasn't enough for them. Oh here's Ms. Tunt and her assistants now."

"What's up bitches!" Cheryl cheered. She was wearing a nice blue business suit and had her hair done up. As well as wearing fancy jewelry.

"Holla!" Pam grinned. She and Ray were dressed very smartly in business attire as well.

"Greetings," Ray grinned.

"You were saying Lana?" Cyril groaned. "About whoever was putting that on being **smarter** than us?"

"God, I hate my job sometimes," Lana groaned.

"Ms. Tunt," Ms. Young immediately became more congenial. "How are you doing?"

"I just glued up, downed half a pack of groovy bears and had three glasses of champagne," Cheryl waved. "I'm good!"

"Glued up?" Ms. Young was confused.

"She means she's excited about the expo," Ray said quickly. "It's a saying all the kids are using these days."

"Oh really?" Ms. Young was surprised. "Well then, if there's anything you need please let me know. And I will get Pete to get it for you. As for you Mr. Figgis and your…associates. Behave yourselves."

"Ciao!" Ray waved as Ms. Young and her assistant left.

"Nice lady," Cheryl said. "Who is she again?"

"Doesn't matter," Pam waved. "What's up bitches?"

"Why are **you** here?" Cyril snapped. "Ray, I put **you** in charge of the agency!"

"I know," Ray said. "I made an executive decision. I decided we should get paid."

"And by we," Pam spoke up. "It's mostly Ray and I. And we should get hours because technically we are providing security."

"With you lot here you're providing me insecurity!" Cyril snapped.

"If you guys are **here** …" Lana realized something. "Who's watching the agency?"

Meanwhile…

Milton beeped and popped up some toast in the bullpen.

"Hai-ya," Mitsuko did her nails. "This is boring. Come on Milton. Let's go hack into the stock market again. Listen to brokers scream as prices rise and crash to the ground."

Milton popped out some more toast.

"Good idea," Mitsuko grinned. "Maybe screw with stock market price of company of Loud Glue Bitch?"

Back to the Expo…

"Everything will be fine," Ray waved. "I mean how much damage could a hologram and a toaster do?"

"Besides," Pam snorted. "Cheryl's paying us a dump load just for helping her out here."

"So technically this is a case," Ray added. "For providing some personal security."

"I set up an ice cream bar and I'm lactose intolerant," Cheryl explained.

"So I'm going to make sure she doesn't eat any," Pam grinned.

"And Ray like put together this fabulous outfit," Cheryl twirled around.

"I'm protecting her from bad fashion," Ray explained.

"Fine," Cyril sighed. "I guess it is technically a case. We could use all the help we can get."

"Hey you got Furlock Bones 2.0 out!" Pam giggled. "Hey boy!" She petted the robot dog that wagged his tail.

"Look can you guys at least say that the Figgis Agency is providing security for your event?" Cyril asked. "Please? Please? Please? Please?"

"Don't worry, Nieder-Nutter," Pam waved. "We'll let people know."

"Okay, that's good! That's good!" Cyril sighed with relief. "Because we really need to knock this out of the park!"

"What park?" Cheryl blinked.

"We are going to get clients this weekend," Cyril said. "In order to do that we are going to maximize our opportunities. While you three are at the Tunt Tent, Krieger and I will man the booth."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Lana asked.

"You go to the front of the expo and try to draw people to our booth," Cyril said.

"Nope," Lana frowned. "Nooooope! I'm a detective! Not a…show model!"

"Technically you're not a detective **yet,** " Cyril said. "You haven't earned all the hours."

"I am **not** a model!" Lana protested.

"Well you are dressed for it," Pam pointed out.

"What?" Lana looked down at her turquoise sweater dress. "This is what I normally wear!"

"We know," Cheryl remarked. "We've seen it every day for **years**. In all colors."

"And I'm not saying we have a problem with it," Cyril said. "In fact, we really like your outfits."

"They are a good look for you," Krieger nodded. "Especially in this situation."

"Pretty accurate situation," Cheryl giggled.

"Lana honey," Ray sighed. "Don't take this the wrong way. But you might want to consider investing in a pantsuit for the future."

"But in the present…" Cyril said. "Well you are dressed to attract attention."

"WHAT?" Lana shouted.

"I'm not the one dressed like a Go-Go dancer! Okay?" Cyril snapped. "It's not my fault you have to show off your legs every chance you get!"

"Not that we're complaining," Pam spoke up.

"Definitely not," Krieger nodded.

"I am not going to be the bimbo that stands around handing out flyers!" Lana snapped.

"Technically no," Cyril said. "You will **not** be handing out flyers. I promise!"

A few minutes later…

"This is so humiliating," Lana groaned. She was holding the leash on Furlock Bones and the robot dog had the flyers in it's mouth.

Back at the booth for the Figgis Agency…

"Okay I know it's only been an hour," Cyril said as he sat at the booth. "And we haven't had any clients yet but it's early. No need to panic."

"I'm not panicking," Krieger said. He was reading a magazine.

"I didn't say you were," Cyril said. "I'm just telling you to not panic."

"I'm perfectly fine," Krieger said as he picked up a carton. "Pretzel? It's almond crusted nuggets."

"Ooh," Cyril took some. "Thank you!" He started eating some.

A man walked by and looked at their booth. "Mrruff! Mrruff!" Cyril panicked and talked with his mouth full. The man walked away. "MRRRRK! Commmmm bbrrrkk!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full Cyril," Krieger said. Cyril gave him a dirty look.

Cyril swallowed and drank some water. "I'm nervous okay?"

"No shit," Krieger read his magazine. "I'm going to get more pretzels."

"Krieger! Krieger!" Cyril shouted. Krieger ignored him. "Get me some unsalted ones!"

Cyril paused and sat behind the booth watching people go by. It wasn't long before he was bored. He looked around at the booth next to him. He decided to talk to the man behind that booth. "Hi! Cyril Figgis of the Figgis Detective Agency."

"Don't talk to me," The man said.

"What?" Cyril blinked.

"We're competitors," The man glared. "Competitors don't talk to each other."

"Hang on," Cyril said. "You're an insurance company. We're a detective agency. How can we be competitors? If anything…" Then Cyril got a good look at the sign on the booth. "Huntington Insurance Agency…That sounds…familiar. Oh no…"

"Oh yes," The insurance man glared at Cyril. "Goodwin warned us all about what a bunch of lunatics you people are!"

"To be fair a lot of that was exaggerated," Cyril said.

"I highly doubt it," The insurance man said.

"Fine asshole!" Cyril snapped. "We got a better insurance company anyway! With a lower premium!"

"Who? Fantasy Land Unlimited?" The insurance man asked.

"I was just trying to be civil!" Cyril snapped. "But if that's the way you want to play it bitch!"

"Bring it on!" The insurance man snapped. "What can _you_ do?"

"Oh, what can I do?" Cyril was getting angry.

"Yeah what can you do?"

"You wanna know what **I** can do?" Cyril shouted.

"Yeah! Because from what I can see, all you can do is **nothing!** "

"Oh yeah?" Cyril snarled. He then noticed people walking over to the Huntington Insurance Agency booth. "Hey! Did they ever fire that CEO? You know? The one that was skimming from all the accounts and bought a home in Bermuda?"

"What?" The insurance man did a double take. The people walking by were stunned.

"Oh, and how did that other guy's trial turn out?" Cyril asked cheerfully. "You know the one who was arrested for solicitation and public nudity?"

"Wait, no! No!" The insurance man shouted as the potential customers walked away. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You wanna play? We'll **play!"** Cyril snapped. Some more potential customers walked over to the Huntington booth. "Say, how did the test results go? Is that case of the crabs you got in New York over yet or what?"

The other customers ran off. "No! He's lying! He's lying!" The insurance man shouted.

"Oh yeah, **I'm** the liar," Cyril scoffed as some more people walked by. "This from a man whose company is being investigated by the IRS!"

More people ran away. Cyril glared at the shocked insurance man. " **That's** what you get for starting something! This is **my house** bitch!"

Meanwhile inside the Tunt Exhibition Tent the party was in full swing. There were press and esteemed guests from the business world as well as the wealthy patrons of the city mingling, drinking champagne and looking at several small exhibits and monitors extolling the virtues and highlights of the Tunt financial empire as well as their new car design. In the middle of the tent was a round platform with a car hidden underneath a huge silver cover.

In the tent there was a section partitioned off where the servers and other members of Tunt Motors were preparing food and other things. And going off the handle whenever any little thing went wrong. Such as…

"All right! What happened with the gift bags?" The head planner for the Tunt Expo Tent shouted in his earpiece. "I specifically ordered 350 gift bags to distribute to our VIPs! There are only 300 of them! Where the devil are the other **50?** I don't care if that's **not** your department! It's your department **now!** FIND THEM!"

Off to the side Ray and Pam were watching the chaos. "Should we feel guilty that we're the ones who took all those gift bags and stashed them in the car?" Ray asked.

"Are you kidding?" Pam snickered. "Thanks to Cheryl I'm not going to have to buy Christmas gifts this year! Hell, I won't even need to wrap them!"

"You're right," Ray said. "I mean if they didn't want people to take them they wouldn't have put such good things in them. The face cream alone feels amazing!"

"I have no idea what face cream has to do with selling cars but I'm not complaining," Pam said. "Or the personalized M&M's with the Tunt name and the Chapstick."

"That's not Chapstick," Ray corrected. "That's lip serum. See? I have some on my lips."

"They do look fuller," Pam whistled. "Are they plumpers too?"

"Plumpers are out," Ray said. "Lip serum is where it is at."

"I have got to try that," Pam nodded.

"We also have to try what's in that coupon book they put in," Ray said. "Two massages for one? At the Luxor Spa? Can't wait!"

Pam added. "Ooh! And how about that fancy pen set they put in? That will save us some money at the office."

"You buy pens for the _office?"_ Ray asked.

"Buy, take from hotels that give them out for free," Pam shrugged. "Same difference."

"So we're down fifty stupid bags?" Cheryl was now talking to the head planner. "It will only make them more exclusive. Just stiff the fifty people that are the biggest bitches. It shouldn't be **that hard!"**

The head planner fled quickly. "Oh God it's like nobody can do **anything** for themselves!" Cheryl grumbled. "I have to think of **everything** around here!"

"That is a frightening thought," Ray admitted.

"Tell me about it," Cheryl groaned as her phone rang. "Seriously? **What?** " She answered it. "Why are you screaming? I don't care. I don't care. Hello? I just said I just **don't care**! Can you hear me now? Hear this! I DON'T CARE!"

"Trouble on the home front?" Pam asked.

"For some reason everybody at the office is going crazy," Cheryl shrugged as she turned off her phone. "Oh well…"

What she didn't notice behind her was a giant monitor chronicling the stock market and several stocks. Currently the stock price of Tunt Industries was going way down.

What people were looking at was Ms. Young on stage on another monitor giving a speech. "Why is she giving this opening speech **now?"** Pam asked. "Didn't the expo open like an hour ago?"

"It's a common tactic," Cheryl waved. "She wanted to make sure everyone got here and settled in. Yada, yada, yada. Who is she again?"

"Ms. Young is the head of some business association thing as well as in charge of the expo," Ray waved.

"Ms. _Young?"_ Cheryl scoffed. "She looks like she was a grade behind Ms. Archer! Who's she kidding?"

Ms. Young spoke on the monitor. "This year our expo will showcase the best and brightest among the business community."

"As well as the Figgis Agency," Ray quipped.

"I know right?" Pam snorted as Ms. Young went on.

"This expo features several rising stars and talented individuals," Ms. Young went on. "People who exude professionalism as well as success."

"Again, the Figgis Agency is here so…" Pam snorted.

"And now," Ms. Young said to the crowd. "Let's all get **glued up!"**

"Oh my God," Pam snickered at the shocked crowd's reaction. "Archer is gonna **die** when he finds out he missed this!"

"Speaking of which," Ray looked at Cheryl with concern. "Cheryl hon, don't you think you should cool it on the drinks for a bit?"

Cheryl held out a finger as she drank a bottle of scotch. "Cheryl!" Ray snapped.

"Relax Ray…" Cheryl finished the drink. "You know I get stage fright sometimes. Just getting a little hair of the dog to loosen up. Just get a little loosey-goosey."

"Looks like you had more than the hair of the dog," Ray remarked. "You had a whole damn Dachshund!"

"I'm fine!" Cheryl snorted as she threw away the bottle. "I just had a few extra groovy bears and some other stuff and it's just kicking in."

"What other stuff?" Ray asked. "It's nothing Krieger made is it?"

"No!" Cheryl snorted. "It's some prescription from some doctor I got somewhere some time ago. Don't know when. All I know is these babies really give you a good ride!"

"Speaking of which…" Pam asked. "You really think you should be high during a car presentation?"

"I find car stuff boring," Cheryl snorted. "That's the perfect time to be high!"

"Refresh my memory," Ray said to Pam. "There's a clause in the contract that says we can only do so much to protect Cheryl from **herself,** right?"

"Oh yeah," Pam nodded. "Hey the presentation's starting!"

"Time for me to go to work," Cheryl groaned. "What am I doing again?"

"Introducing a new car for your new car company," Ray told her.

"Oohhh," Cheryl nodded. "Wow. I totally forgot about that."

"That's what we're here for," Ray said without sarcasm.

"Good," Cheryl nodded as she looked at the announcer on the podium in the middle of the tent. "Okay I know what I'm doing now."

"That will be a first," Ray whispered in Pam's ear. Pam snickered.

"Hello!" The announcer grinned. "I am Steven Whittlethorn the Third, President of Tunt Motors. Here at Tunt Motors we have a dream, to sell the best damn cars on the planet. That are also good for the planet. And I'd like to announce my boss, Tunt Industries CEO Cheryl Tunt!"

There was fanfare and applause. Cheryl just stood there out of sight. "That's your cute you idiot!" Pam snapped.

"Oh! Right!" Cheryl walked out and waved to the crowd. She stumbled a little bit when she got to the podium but kept herself from falling.

"This is going to be interesting," Ray groaned.

"Hello! I'm Cheryl and/or Carol Tunt!" Cheryl said cheerfully as she took a microphone. She looked at Steven. "Who are you again?"

Everyone laughed. "What's so funny?" Cheryl blinked.

"Oh boss," Steven chuckled. "Such a kidder. We're here to introduce the world to the newest innovation in the car industry. The Tuntrado 3000!"

"Where is it?" Cheryl looked around. The audience laughed thinking it was part of the act. "Seriously where?"

"Right **here!"** Steven made a motion showing the tarp covered car.

"Oh, **there** it is!" Cheryl said. The crowd giggled still thinking it was part of the act. "Wait that's not a car! That's a tarp!"

"The car is under the tarp," Steven explained.

"Oohhh riiiiigggght!" Cheryl nodded. The crowd laughed. "Well let's get a look at her and see if this bitch will spread her legs and give you an orgasm!"

Steven ignored some of the shocked gasps and kept smiling. "Here it is! The Tuntrado 3000!" He made a motion and someone pulled off the tarp, revealing a shiny futuristic looking red car.

"Wow! This thing looks bitchin'!" Cheryl gasped.

"It has 250 horse power and gets 180 miles to the gallon," Steven explained. "Aerodynamic design, power steering, rearview camera, air conditioning, heated handmade leather seats, and a state of the art GPS system makes the Tuntrado 3000 a cut above the rest."

"Yeah, you'd never know these babies' engines catch on fire," Cheryl snorted.

"Yes, the Tuntrado…WHAT?" Steven did a double take.

"They catch on fire if you go over eighty miles an hour," Cheryl told him. "That's because half the parts for this thing come from some part of China that doesn't have any manufacturing standards."

"Oh, this will not end well," Ray winced as the crowd gasped.

"And the other half we got cheap because apparently it came off of some landfill in Korea," Cheryl went on. "And I don't mean the southern half."

"She's kidding folks," Steven chuckled nervously. "What a kidder!"

"And folks don't get me **started** on the air bags on this thing," Cheryl snickered. "There aren't any."

"WHAT?" Someone yelled.

"And the heated leather seats," Cheryl went on. "They're actually made of some kind of fakey-plastic thing. Which probably explains why they melt like a candle when the seat heater is turned on!"

"Okay Ms. Tunt I think that's enough now…" Steven gulped amid the shocked buzz.

"Seriously," Cheryl snorted. "This thing is a death trap. The only reason it got approved was that some manager in my company bribed the government. I think it was the head of Tunt Motors. Hey Steve who is that again?"

"Oh. My. God!" Ray gasped.

"This is the first time I've seen a CEO whistle blow her own company," Pam blinked.

"I mean if ever there was a piece of shit that was made solely to con rich bitches and kill them," Cheryl went on. "This is it!"

"SOMEBODY CUT HER MIKE!" Steven shouted.

"YOU'RE NOT MY SUPERVISOR!" Cheryl shouted.

"Something tells me we shouldn't have let her go out there," Pam remarked.

"Let go of me!" Cheryl snapped as Steven tried to drag her off the stage.

"Ms. Tunt please!" Steven gasped.

"Who are you? Lee I Want A Coke-A?" Cheryl snapped before she punched Steven hard in the face. He went down out cold.

"OUTLAW CAR COMPANY!" Cheryl ripped off her clothes to reveal her pink bra and panties. "WHOOO!"

"We **definitely** should **not** have let her go out there," Pam winced.

"I'm gonna take this baby for **a ride!"** Cheryl whooped as she opened the car door.

"She can't really do that," Ray said. "I mean it's not like the keys are inside…"

"Great! The keys are inside!" Cheryl laughed. "Score!"

"Well it's not like she can drive it off the pedestal," Ray said nervously. "I mean it has to be clamped down or something, right?"

VRRRRRRRROOOOOM!

"Okay it's not," Ray gulped as the car started to move.

VRRRRROOOOM!

"WHOOO HOOO!" Cheryl laughed as she started to drive off the pedestal.

Ray gulped. "You know how Cyril wanted us to make sure people knew about the Figgis Agency being security at this booth? Something tells me he might change his mind about that."

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROMMM!

"Oh, he is **definitely** going to change his mind about that," Ray winced as the car sped up out of the tent, scattering people and items in its wake.

"Ray what do we do?" Pam asked as terrified people started to flee.

"Grab more gift bags!" Ray ordered.

"Good plan!" Pam said as she did so. "Don't forget the chocolate covered strawberries!"

Meanwhile back at the booth…Actually let's go back a couple of minutes before Cheryl started her speech/rampage…

"PORNOS!" Cyril shouted as he pointed at the insurance booth. "THESE PEOPLE INSURE PORNOS!"

"WE DO **NOT!"** The insurance man shouted. "THIS MAN IS A LIAR! A LIAR!"

"I'M NOT THE LIAR!" Cyril shouted. "AT LEAST I DON'T SKIM MONEY OFF THE PROFITS AND USE THEM TO BUY DRUGS!"

"WE DO NOT BUY…" The insurance man paused. "ILLEGAL DRUGS!"

"YOU **DO** ADMIT YOU BUY DRUGS?" Cyril shouted. "AH HA!"

"Well technically aspirin and caffeine are drugs…" The insurance man admitted. "And the occasional bottle of alcohol for the Christmas party.

"DRUGGIES!" Cyril shouted and pointed. "ALCOHOLIC DRUGGIES OVER HERE!"

"WE ARE NOT!" The insurance man shouted. He looked at the booth on the other side of Cyril. "Sir we aren't alcoholic drug addicts! This man and his company are!"

"No, **they are**!" Cyril snapped.

"We're just a paper company!" The terrified man at the other booth gulped. "Not taking sides!"

"This man is a liar!" The insurance man shouted.

"Said I wasn't taking sides!" The man at the other booth gulped. "Oh look, time for my break!" He ran away.

"You are a liar! A liar!" The insurance man shouted.

"And you are having an affair with your secretary!" Cyril shouted.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW **THAT?** " The insurance man shouted.

Of course, Cyril **didn't** know that. It was just a lucky guess. But he wasn't going to tell his opponent that.

Instead he said, "I run a detective agency bitch! I **know** things! Or I can find them out!"

Cyril went on. "I even know **why** you are having an affair. Because after years of the same thing at the same job with the same wife and the same damn co-workers asking 'How's it hanging'? You want to hang yourself with a rope because your life has become so boring and monotonous! And this affair is one last grasp at excitement and happiness for you because basically you feel it's all over. And even **that** isn't as exciting as you thought it would be because your secretary isn't really into you. They're **never** really into you!"

"Spoiler alert: She's gonna dump you as soon as that cute guy from management notices her! And you're going to be left alone. Alone with your guilt and your shame and the mind-numbing realization that your life is in a never-ending rut that not even death can spice up! And the only reason you don't blow your brains out is that you are too chicken to die! Because let's face it, as pathetic as your life is…It's still better than the absoluteness of **nothing!** "

"So why don't you go back home and think about that pathetic mess that is your life," Cyril was in the insurance man's face. "Get some therapy or something. Instead of another night of meaningless sex while dressed in a French maid's uniform!"

"It's an anime character uniform…" The insurance man gulped.

"Same difference," Cyril scoffed. "Too bad you don't make one in the world."

"Excuse me…" The insurance man sniffed. He ran away crying.

"THAT'S RIGHT BITCH!" Cyril yelled as the insurance man ran away in tears. "RUN BITCH RUN! GO HOME CRYING TO YOUR MOMMY! YEAH!"

It then occurred to Cyril by the way some people were looking at him that he may have not handled that in the most tactful manner.

"Oh, that is so going to bite me in the ass later," Cyril groaned. "Where the hell is Krieger? How long can it take to get some damn pretzels?"

"Cyril, we have a problem," Lana ran up. "I lost the damn robot dog."

"What? **How**?" Cyril snapped. Lana showed him the broken leash. "What the hell Lana?"

"It saw something and just ran off!" Lana snapped. "I couldn't stop it!"

"What? It saw a _robot cat?"_ Cyril asked sarcastically. "Why didn't you chase it?"

"I tried but the damn thing has **robot legs**!" Lana snapped. "Where's Krieger? Maybe he has a tracking device on it?"

"THE PRETZELS AND PENS ARE MINE!" Krieger ran from some people and a security guard. He was carrying basket loads of pens and pretzels. "MUAH HA HA HA!"

"Okay so maybe Krieger **won't** be able to help us out with this problem?" Lana sighed.

Suddenly there was an announcement over the intercom. _"Will whoever owning a psychotic basset hound please report to the security office. SO THAT YOU CAN CALL IT OFF OUR HEAD OF SECURITY!"_

"That is a problem," Lana winced. "I'm not going over there."

"Well I'm not going over there," Cyril said. "Someone has to man the booth."

"I will stay at the booth," Lana said. " **You** go over and handle it."

"I am in charge of this agency!" Cyril snapped. "You handle it!"

"I have been ogled and had my ass slapped by some joker!" Lana snapped. " **You** handle it!"

"I am not handling it!" Cyril snapped. "You handle it!"

"I am **not** handling it!" Lana snapped back. " **You** are the so-called head of the agency! You handle it! No reason I should!"

 _"SERIOUSLY!"_ The announcer shouted _. "IT'S CHASING BOTH THE HEAD OF SECURITY AND THE HEAD OF THE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE ALL OVER THE PLACE! BY THE WAY, MR. FRANKATELLI APOLOGIZES TO THE HUGE BLACK LADY FOR HIS ACTIONS AND IS VERY, VERY SORRY SO_ _ **PLEASE**_ _CALL YOUR CRAZY DOG OFF!"_

Cyril looked at Lana. "Okay…" Lana paused. "I might have left out one or two _tiny_ details about what happened."

"I'm going to take a wild guess," Cyril sighed. "After you were slapped, you probably set the dog on that man. Who I'm guessing is the head of the Chamber of Commerce of LA?"

"I didn't know who he was," Lana admitted. "But he should know better than to keep his hands to himself."

Cyril could swear he heard the baying of a hound. He looked up. On a giant monitor suspended above the convention he saw two men being chased by a very fast basset hound with glowing eyes. Which were shooting out lasers.

ZZAPPP! ZAPPP!

"Krieger neglected to inform me that he gave the robot dog laser eyes," Cyril said calmly.

"Didn't know that either," Lana admitted.

"Okay…" Cyril took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can see why you might not be the best person to handle this particular problem."

"I told you I wasn't," Lana said.

"I'd say I was angry but honestly…" Cyril put his glasses back on. "Full disclosure here. I may have opened us up to a slander and a possible intimidation case so…I can't really fault you here for losing your temper when I made a grown man cry."

"What did you **do?** " Lana asked sarcastically. "Tell him about your love life?"

"You know…?" Cyril gave her a look.

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRROM!

"OUTLAW CAR COMPANY! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Cheryl screamed as a car burst out of the Tunt Tent scattering people.

"Okay," Cyril groaned. " **Now** we have a bigger problem!"

"Does Cheryl even **know** how to drive?" Lana asked.

SCRREEECH!

CRASH!

"Apparently not," Cyril winced. "Should we be doing something…?"

"YES!" Lana snapped. "COME ON!" She ran after Cheryl.

"But I can't leave the booth…" Cyril paused. "Oh, it doesn't matter **now!** " He ran after Lana.

"HA HA HA!" Cheryl laughed as she drove around the expo center, scattering people and crashing into some booths before going on her merry way. "ROAD HOGS!"

"What are we going to do **exactly**?" Cyril shouted as they ran after her. "Stop her with our bare hands?"

"No! We're going to…" Lana paused. "Maybe I can shoot out her tires?"

"Did you bring your gun?" Cyril asked panting.

"Damn it!" Lana growled.

"So how are we going to stop her?" Cyril shouted. "Seriously, what's the plan here?"

"Just shut up and **run**!" Lana snapped.

 **"Towards** the crazy woman driving a car in an enclosed space," Cyril rolled his eyes. "Some plan!"

"DO YOU HAVE A BETTER ONE?" Lana turned around and glared at him.

 **"Yes!"** Cyril saw something behind her. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

"What?" Lana noticed that the car was now headed for her. As well as some other people running for their lives.

Both Lana and Cyril jumped to the side and crashed into a mattress booth before Cheryl could run them over. "Wow, what are the odds?" Cyril blinked as he realized they had landed on a mattress.

"About the same as usual…" Lana began.

FOOOM!

"OF COURSE, THE DAMN CAR CATCHES ON FIRE!" Lana shouted.

"OH YEAH!" Cheryl laughed as the flaming car sped up. "THIS IS HOW I WANNA GO BABY! WHOOOOOOO!"

"YIPE!"

"Did I just hit a **dog**?" Cheryl blinked as she looked behind her. She didn't look where she was going and crashed right into a booth.

"Oh god!" Lana gasped as she and Cyril ran towards the flaming wreck. "Did she kill anybody?"

"No, but she did run over Furlock Bones," Cyril noticed the wrecked remains on the floor.

"Cheryl you…" Lana fumed as she ran to pull Cheryl out of the wreck. "WHERE THE HELL ARE RAY AND PAM?"

Meanwhile…

"I GOT THE LOBSTERS!" Ray shouted as he had a tray full of dead lobsters as he ran to their car.

"GREAT!" Pam shouted. "WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH THAT HELP ME GET THIS FROZEN YOGURT MACHINE!"

"WILL THAT EVEN FIT IN THE CAR?" Ray asked.

"WE'LL MAKE IT FIT!" Pam shouted.

Back to the wreckage…

"Got her!" Lana pulled Cheryl out of the car just as people with fire extinguishers ran to put out the flames.

"Is she okay?" Cyril asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Lana groaned. Just then an alarm went off. "Now what?"

"It sounds like the…" Cyril began. Suddenly the entire floor was doused with water from the sprinkler system above them. "Fire alarm…"

"Well what do you know?" Cheryl giggled. "This thing **does** have airbags in it!" She then passed out.

The following day in the bullpen at the Figgis Agency…

"All right," Cyril said as he stood in front of a blackboard saying Pros and Cons. "Let's go over what happened yesterday. "Let's weigh in our pros and cons of the whole situation."

The entire Figgis Agency minus Mallory and Archer were there. " _Really_?" Lana groaned. "You want to start us off Cyril?"

"Well," Cyril sighed. "We've now been banned from the rest of the expo. When they rebuild it. And all other future expos in Los Angeles. And from what I understand most of California."

"So that's a con?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"Pretty much yeah," Cyril admitted. He wrote BANNED FOR LIFE FROM EXPOS on the Con side of the board.

"You're still paying us right Cheryl?" Pam asked. "What happened yesterday wasn't our fault."

"What **did** happen yesterday?" Cheryl blinked. "I'm sorry. I must have had so many drugs and booze and shit that I totally blacked out what happened yesterday."

"So, I'm guessing that's a no?" Cyril sighed. "Con." He wrote NO HOURS/NO MONEY on the board. "Anything else?"

"Our reputation with the business community is in the toilet," Pam groaned.

"Bad reputation worse," Cyril wrote that down in the Con section. "Oh, here's another one: Blackballed from several businesses. Anything else?"

"How about complete and total humiliation?" Lana said sarcastically.

"Yeah that's definitely a con," Cyril wrote that down.

Krieger sniffed. "Furlock Bones was completely destroyed."

"Poor thing has gone to robot dog heaven," Pam sighed.

Cyril wrote down ROBOT DOG DEAD in the Pro section. "OH, COME ON!" Krieger shouted.

"Seriously?" Pam asked.

"I don't know," Lana admitted. "Furlock Bones kind of grew on me."

"Seriously?" Cyril looked at Lana.

A phone rang. "Seriously?" Cheryl picked up her phone. "Ugh! It's my stupid manager from my stupid company. WHAT?" She answered it. "What now? I have no idea what you are talking about. Hang on!" She stormed out of the room.

Everyone was silent for a moment. "Oh! I have another con!" Pam spoke up. "About when Ms. Archer finds out about all the money from those secret accounts you and Krieger drained. She's going to kill you!"

"Something tells me she might also take it out on the rest of us," Ray groaned.

"Fine…" Cyril said testily. He wrote MS. ARCHER WILL KILL US in the Con section. "Happy?"

"Pretty much," Pam shrugged. "I have a very optimistic view on life."

"If Mallory finds out about this disaster you won't have one," Lana told her.

"Oh," Pam realized. "So, we should keep this on the down low?"

"That would be a good idea," Lana sighed.

"Anything else?" Cyril sighed.

"Well…" Ray paused. "We got some chocolate covered strawberries. And a few nice gift bags."

"And by a few you mean…?" Cyril sighed.

"About a hundred something," Pam admitted. "What? I have a large family! That I don't need to buy Christmas presents for."

"And I got a lot of pretzel samples and free pens!" Krieger spoke up.

"Krieger," Lana sighed. "Again, they're only free if you take **one**. Not the **whole basket**!"

"Still saves us money on pens," Krieger shrugged.

"Wait," Lana realized something. "Is that why our refrigerator is filled with dead lobsters?"

"Who doesn't like free seafood?" Pam asked. "We tried to get a yogurt machine but it was too heavy."

"We did however get a lot of coupon books that have coupons for free yogurt," Ray reminded her. "So it wasn't a total loss."

"Fine," Cyril wrote GRAND THEFT in the Con section. "Oh, and while I'm at it…"

He wrote STILL NO INSURANCE/NO INSURANCE AGENCY WILL COVER US. "Don't ask…" Cyril groaned.

"Relax Cyril," Pam waved. "It's not like it's a law or anything."

"Actually…" Lana sighed. "Oh forget it…"

"Look I just want you to **fix it**!" Cheryl was heard. "I don't care what happened, just do your jobs and make me a lot of money and don't bother me! JESUS!"

Cheryl stormed back into the room. "Sorry about that. My Board of Directors was pissed about something."

"Gee I wonder why?" Lana said sarcastically.

"Apparently, I used to own a car company for some reason," Cheryl said. "We had to dump the company because of some kind of scandal. The cars were catching on fire. There was a crash of some kind. Caused a huge disaster. For some reason my managers are screaming at me…Don't know why."

"Really?" Ray asked sarcastically. "Not even a **clue?"**

"If only Ms. Archer would be the same way about her accounts," Cyril groaned.

"Then they're going on and on about a bunch of stupid bribes for not getting arrested for reckless endangerment," Cheryl added.

"Which explains why you're not in jail **now,** " Lana sighed. "Even though you should have been put away a long time ago."

"And then my stupid manager starts screaming at me about what's happening in the kitchen," Cheryl added.

"The **kitchen?** " Lana asked.

"Yeah, he kept going on and on how the stock was low," Cheryl waved. "And I told him if he was low on stock just go to the store and get more. There's plenty in the grocery aisle!"

"Oh, dear God…" Cyril realized something. "Pam you have your laptop…Could you check…?"

"On it," Pam was on the computer. "Whoa! Cheryl your company's stock is falling faster than most of the retail industries!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Cheryl asked.

"Well it's not good," Pam sighed.

Cyril sighed and went to the board. He wrote in the Con section. TUNT COMPANY LOSING MONEY/MAY NO LONGER DEPEND ON CHERYL IN FUTURE.

"Could we **ever** depend on Cheryl?" Lana called out.

Cheryl casually took out some glue and began to sniff it. "Apparently not…" Cyril groaned.


End file.
